(She knows what it must be taking from Harrow to tell her, but she can't, she can't.)
She lets her feet come off the sandy bottom and exhales, letting herself sink. Fingers of water slide gently over her skin, through her hair. She exhales in a slow stream, only surfaces when her empty lungs are screaming. Her pulse explodes against her temples, her breath sounds like the shushing of the waves, and Harrowhark is still there.
"Gross," she says, dully. "Ew. Ick. The worst. What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?"
no subject
(She knows what it must be taking from Harrow to tell her, but she can't, she can't.)
She lets her feet come off the sandy bottom and exhales, letting herself sink. Fingers of water slide gently over her skin, through her hair. She exhales in a slow stream, only surfaces when her empty lungs are screaming. Her pulse explodes against her temples, her breath sounds like the shushing of the waves, and Harrowhark is still there.
"Gross," she says, dully. "Ew. Ick. The worst. What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?"